Log:Dust and Blood: Stranded

Dust and Blood: Stranded

OOC Date: February 21, 2020
Location: Tatooine
Participants: David Ironside, Hadrix Kora, Netep Muri Terek Rosol and Vena

Tatooine isn't the best place to have ship problems. And Mos Eisley is definitely not the sort of place to get stranded during having ship problems. A family of Omwati appeared to be traveling and got stranded here at the Mos Eisley star port. It's not a forgiving place, that's for sure. A few people have approached the small family and tried to swindle them out of credits and other things. The Omwati's look terrified though.

And there is a young group of rough looking human males that look to be eyeing them like it's a food buffet, but haven't approached yet. Probably biding their time for the right moment to strike.

One of the many clan holds is concealed on Tatooine, and maintenance is a fairly regular thing to be done in these sorts of climates. On approach to the port after tending to business and looking to mount up and get off this pit of unimaginable discomfort. Outside of his armor at least. Fully sealed and temperature controlled, Hadrix is strolling through the causeway to the main landing fields, head tipping to the sight before him.

David is standing outside the cantina, leaning against the wall with a leg raised to plant his sole on that same wall. He's in armor, for that delicious thermal control, but the helmet is rested on a rifle he had slung over his shoulder before setting it down on the ground. Raising his arm to his face, he speaks into the wristcom. <<Just about to head back, Ones. You can start the engines.>>

The Doaba Hermi's got its starboard cargo lift hanging low, serving as a temporary parking pad for a /slightly/ used (muchly loved!) Nightfalcon speeder bike. There are a few tools resting alongside in a bin, in addition to some chromium cleaner and buffer solution. Looks like someone was in the midst of giving a little TLC to her ride before being interrupted.

And she was.

Netep is on the return, clambering down a ladder from the ship's belly to take the fast-track back to work. "Jo's triumphed and I lost," she sighs, one hand resting lightly on a still grumbling belly. Her motivation to finish this maintenance job is dwindling and 3 of the 5 senses are tuned in to the rest of port activity, subconsciously in search of a distraction. After a leisurely stretch and gawk-about, it seems she's found one.

OMWATI! She'd recognized those blue-skinned, white-haired wisps of a race anywhere. Because she, as it turns out, is one un-Omwati Omwati. What are the odds? "OI! J'NI! Watch things a spell!" she calls up to the worker drone overhead, then takes off at a light trot on approach of the situation. She's spied some potential ne'er do-wells eyeballing her 'kin' and it doesn't take much guesswork to suspect what's runnin through their minds.

There's a build up of people around the star port today. People coming and going. Scumbags mostly. Mos Eisley sees a lot of sleazy individuals. But some of those sleazebags are rooted to the land and won't ever leave. The Omwati sense that they are being watched, but they really aren't going to move from their ship while they wait for their father to reappear. There's a look given towards Netep's incoming person though and there's a tremble in their feathered heads as they wonder what's about to happen.

A rumble in his throat loud enough to cause the vocalizer, head shaking and from his back he draws a bearded style ax out of its hangar and leaves it disengaged for now, but carried so that he could bring it up quickly.

David lowers his hand, but raises it once he recognizes Netep passing him with PURPOSE. <<Nevermind that, I think something's about to go down here.>> he reports, lifting the helmet off his rifle to pull it over his face. "And this goes in here.. and.." he mutters, before the HUD comes alive and he nods. "There." Picking the rifle up off the ground, he watches Netep's back. Even if she doesn't realize it herself. He's recognized Hadrix, courtesy of that massive hunk of armor he tends to wear these days, but decides the large Friend of Evie doesn't need anybody watching his back.

"Trrre'ke anae!" Netep lifts a hand into a little wave when she gets closer and beams her most beamiest smile. Her Omwatese rolls off the tongue with an effortless lilt. Her appearance screams Ibhann'I, her body 'essence' Lorrdian, but this linguistically gifted gal seems comfortable enough with the alien language, down to the subtle clicks of tongue. The accent isn't perfect, but it's damn near so. "Sha'hael. T'lil kah?"

A secretive wink winks at one of the nervous nellies via nictating membrane AND lovely green lashes. Coupled with a subtle jerk of her head toward the stranger strangers that may or may not be a problem. Her hand, meanwhile is gesturing to their ship, before clapping one of them in overly friendly gesture on the upper arm.

Please don't shoot me, says her brain while her mouth perpetuates that smile....

The dark haired youth raises his head when he hears someone yelling at them. He blinks as he looks to the big ass Mandalorian with the axe and there's a bit of a moment he tosses his hands up, "We aren't doing anything!" he shouts back to the man in a bit of a defiant way.

The Omwati look to Netep as she speaks to them and there is a bit of a relief when she knows their language. The older female of the group bows her wispy head and converses quietly with her.

Spoiling for a fight. That's what he's doing. Spoiling for a fight. He hasn't had a good scrap since the hunt on D'qar.

One of the buildings David passes has a staircase built into the wall, and David climbs it casually, setting his rifle up at the top that overlooks the street. "Someone make a move.." he whispers to himself, viewfinder briefly falling on Hadrix, the shoulders rising and falling obviously. "What in Malachor is he doing?" he asks, out loud again, but there's nobody around with the answers.

"Fakka t'chael," Netep nods, hands coming to rest on hips and shoulders relaxing into a slouch. A low chuckle issues from her throat and she rubs at her nose before gesturing to the old Ghtroc sitting on a neighboring pad. Speeder bike still on display beneath. "Least you were able to touch down here. I ran out of fuel a few hundred kilos short of Motesta once. Tore half a landing strut off skimmin' over the canyon ridge then POOF into the sand she went. You can bet I had unwelcomed company in a matter of hours. Took three days to get out o'that mess. Still got a hole in my couch to serve as reminder that gaderffii sticks pack a punch."

"Tch'ka Muri, by the way." The Omwatese and Basic blend together now in her speech. Didn't want to appear /too/ cryptic! "Netep." A hand is proffered to the eldest female, as is a respectful bow of her head. "Yi srrra kah t'sen."

The dark haired youth raises his head when he hears someone yelling at them. He blinks as he looks to the big ass Mandalorian with the axe and there's a bit of a moment he tosses his hands up, "We aren't doing anything!" he shouts back to the man in a bit of a defiant way.

The Omwati look to Netep as she speaks to them and there is a bit of a relief when she knows their language. The older female of the group bows her wispy head and converses quietly with her.

The three young men take off like there are bloody steaks tied to their waist and Kath hounds have been set loose, "Don't have to tell us twice Mister!" the youngest one shrieks as he runs. Because really, who would want to go toe to toe with a guy in armor like that?

David isn't seen by the group as they rush by him. Kicking up dust and breathing heavily. They run right by the Omwati male that's heading back towards the star port.

The Omwati females look relieved to have Netep there and have her talking and things start to lighten a bit. A lesser feeling of dread lifting. They talk quietly with her and there's a dip of the older ones head in appreciation as she speaks.

Lots of people coming and going, it was easy enough to get lost in a crowd. Terek was lost in a crowd, not intentionally. He wasn't trying to be stealthy, he wasn't trying to blend in in order to sneak around. He's just lost.

The cathar is trying his best to LOOK like he knows what he's doing, but in reality he's wandering. Just in time to see the crowd part as the three young men run off, tearing right past him in their retreat. At least they managed to not crash into him in the process. Curious, he starts to head towards the direction the trio was running from. You know what they say about curiosity and cathar.

Ax still out, but not for them, Hadrix approaches the omwati with a slow gait, his free hand held out where they can see, the blade pointed at the ground.

But not for them either.

When the youths decide to cut their losses and run, David aims his rifle skyward. Even though he never took the safety off. He's not much of a people person, so instead of heading off to join the group, he keeps back. Breathing evenly, he sits on those stairs, watching the street kids run off. His rifle is set on the butt to point directly upwards.

"Oona, Cana," Netep bobs her head to each in turn and folds arms over chest with a lean on hip. "Y'know, I actually g-"

Armored Hadrix is watched closely when he makes an obvious approach and one hand slips ever so nearer to hook around the leather of her jacket toward something on belt. Which is totally uneccessary as the vocoder soon reveals. "Heeeey there, Hadrix." She offers a little upnod and crooked smirk. "Whyever would I be otherwise?" Only a thousand reasons, Muri. "I don't think translation'll be necessary, if I had to wager, I'd bet the little one is already fluent in three, four languages?" A fond smile flashes back to Cana. "The minds of Omwati youth would make the most tenured professor of Coruscant seem quite the dim bulb, by comparison."

"I'm amazed I made as decent marks as I did, attending their schools." Muri yawns, watching the tail ends of that scampering gang of teens. It's good to have terrifying acquaintances around. It really is. "T'brrehl?" she queries to Oona with a loose gesture as a telltale head of white feathers is seen sprouting around other bodies milling in port.

The mother Omwati gives a look to Hadrix as he approaches and the little girl scoots in just a bit to her mothers side and there's a tiny trill that can be heard. It's more overwhelming place than fear though. "We can speak Basic, yes." the older female nods. "It is good to meet you, Hadrix of Clan Kora." she tells him. Then there's a look to Netep and there's a nod of her head, relief washing over her, "Yes." she answers to her.

The tall male Omwati is looking confused as he carries a box full of parts and he approaches his wife and the group cautiously, "Did we have problems?" he asks, his beak clacking as he talks. The cathar has moved closer to the group, taking interest in the group as well. But of course he's obviously not taking interest with hostile intent. When he spots the mandalorian with the axe, he ahhhs, "Yeah that makes sense." He'd not want to tangle with that kind of thing either.

David unfastens his helmet again, slinging the rifle on his shoulder and balancing the helmet on it precariously. It'll stay on, right? He hasn't gone up to join the others in the group, nor does he intend to. Distance is good. He raises his wrist to his face again. <<Ones, you can fire it up now.>>

The Omwati family give quiet thanks to those that offer assistance and they exchange information with them. The husband offers to pay Netep and Hadrix for their help, it's not a lot of credits, but, 5000 is better than a punch in the eye. If they accept it they will be given a chit for it. It takes less than thirty mintues for them to get the repairs done and then they are taking off. Happy to leave Tatooine behind and hopefully not to have troubles here again.

<<"That could have gone much worse, Hadrix">> <<"I know.">> <<"What the hell were you thinking?">> <<"I don't know... okay?">>

"Trrre'ke anae," Muri wags a few fingers at the patriarch while Hadrix explains. The use of the word 'these' instead of 'them' draws a little flinch from her brow but she rolls her lower lip inward to keep an intrusive tongue silent. A raised hand wards off payment and she takes a half step back.

"No compensation required. If uh..." she rubs at the back of her neck contemplatively, visibly weighing a thought. "Nah, nevermind. Been awhile since I've been home, so maybe I'll deliver the message myself. G'luck with your repairs, hey? I'm just a berth away." And Muri's leaving them to their business, returning to her own. The Cathar gets a little halfnod hello in passing.

Seems like the group is starting to disperse. Terek missed the action, not that there seems to have been much, since the youths ran off. However they might want to hassle others. Terek hrms faintly to himself, and then turns to head off in the direction they went. Maybe he can get eyes on them again, make sure they don't get into more trouble.